


Peach Velvet

by madamteatime



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: Crossdressing, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-16
Updated: 2014-08-16
Packaged: 2018-02-13 08:39:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2144211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/madamteatime/pseuds/madamteatime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Changmin doesn’t normally consider himself <i>pretty</i> per se, but there’s something very pleasing about the soft contouring of his face and the pink of his cheeks and lips</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peach Velvet

**Author's Note:**

> PWP in celebration of Peach's public debut. Also my 50th work on AO3 \o/

Changmin stares at the mirror, vision blurring until he almost believes it’s a real woman looking back at him.

His face feels sticky with makeup, his eyes heavy with mascara and fake eyelashes.

Kyuhyun snorts from behind him. 

“You look totally ridiculous,” he says, flicking his long blonde hair over his shoulder. Changmin raises an eyebrow at him.

“Pretty rich coming from a guy in a wig and heels,” he replies scathingly. 

“Please, I make a hot as hell girl,” Kyuhyun puts a hand on his waist and pops his hip, but he’s laughing so it ruins some of the effect he’s going for. “You look ridiculous though.”

“No, Minho looks ridiculous,” Suho says from the corner.

They all glance over at Minho, who has somehow gotten himself tangled in his wig.

“True,” Changmin and Kyuhyun say at the same time.

Changmin gets to his feet, aims a kick at Kyuhyun’s behind and struts out of the dressing room.

 _Not like a guy_ , he reminds himself, adjusting his gait to match the heels. Girls walked pretty.

He’d left Yunho about two hours ago, whisked away by giggling stylists to get primped and pampered. It’s kind of exciting doing this from a girl’s perspective; their makeup is so much more complicated than the one the guys do, but the results are far more pleasing. Changmin doesn’t normally consider himself _pretty_ per se, but there’s something very pleasing about the soft contouring of his face and the pink of his cheeks and lips, Kyuhyun’s jibes be damned. He was just jealous Changmin looked better than him.

He pushes into their dressing room and pauses. It’s completely empty and Yunho is sprawled out on the couch, fast asleep on his back with his mouth open.

Changmin takes a seat beside him, carefully arranging his dress so that the slit gapes open and exposes his legs. He tucks a strand of hair behind his ear and leans over Yunho.

Slowly, he presses his mouth to Yunho’s lower lip, a smile fluttering across his lips at the reverse sleeping beauty he’s playing out – the princess waking her prince with a kiss. 

Yunho stirs and mumbles something something in his sleep. Changmin pulls away and cards a hand through his hair, cradling Yunho head with one hand.

“Hyung,” he whispers.

Yunho jerks awake. He blinks confusedly at Changmin for a second before recognition registers and his eyes widen.

“Changminnie?” he rasps.

Changmin draws back and lets him sit up. Yunho’s eyes trail over him, taking in the wig, makeup and dress, then down to his bare legs and the black kitten heels. He lets out a breath.

“Wow,” Yunho murmurs. 

Changmin preens. He fusses with the dress, waiting for a proper compliment. Yunho smiles.

“You look beautiful,” he says, voice still soft from sleep. 

Changmin flushes. Despite anticipating it the awe in Yunho’s voice catches him off guard. Yunho leans closer and buries his face in Changmin’s neck.

“Mm and you smell good,” he mumbles.

Changmin makes a soft sound, the words tickling against his skin. He feels oddly shy all of a sudden, squirming a little as Yunho presses up against him. He slides a hand under the wig and cups the back of Changmin’s neck.

“Pretty baby,” Yunho breathes, and kisses him. 

Changmin makes a muffled sound against his lips and kisses back, Yunho’s hot breath and the plush slide of their mouths shooting heat through him. His lips are sticky with gloss and Yunho licks into his mouth, the slick sounds of kissing making Changmin’s head spin.

Yunho’s hand lands on his thigh and rubs, and Changmin moans as electricity sparks from each point of contact. He tilts his head and opens his mouth wider, gets the kiss really wet and messy and hot. Yunho’s fingers rub circles on his skin before trailing to the inside of his thigh. Changmin shudders and spreads his legs, silently mourning his lack of self-control. God he’s easy, but who gives a fuck.

Yunho wraps an arm around his waist and hoists Changmin around, sending him sprawling across the couch and covering his body with his own, all without breaking their kiss. The weight of Yunho presses down on him, grounds him while his head spins somewhere on cloud nine. 

“Mm – we can’t ruin – stylist noona will yell at me – ” Changmin manages in between kisses. 

“You look so cute I could fuck you right here on this couch,” Yunho growls, soft biting at the bud of his upper lip. Changmin whines low in his throat and lifts his hips up.

“H-hyung,” he whimpers. “Please.” 

Yunho pulls back and grins down at him. “Shouldn’t it be oppa?” he teases, and Changmin flushes again.

“If you promise not to ruin my dress I’ll let you fuck me,” he says. 

Yunho’s eyes spark with the light of a challenge. He tugs at the tiny booty shorts under Changmin’s dress, pulling them down and off. They land somewhere on the dressing room floor; neither of them cares where, because Yunho is kissing him again and Changmin’s mind turns to a blank buzz of arousal. Yunho pushes the dress up until it’s bunched around his waist, lifting the skirt out of the way carefully. It leaves Changmin completed naked from the waist down, and he moans loudly as Yunho wraps a hand around his erection and strokes him, his lips curled in a soft smile.

“Lube?” he asks.

“In my bag,” Changmin pants, gesturing to the other side of the room. Yunho leaves briefly and returns lugging the whole bag.

“I can’t find anything in there,” he says, and Changmin rolls his eyes. He sits up and rummages for the lube and Yunho takes the opportunity to nibble at his throat, leaving soft, barely-there kisses along the graceful column. Changmin squirms and laughs when he finds a ticklish spot.

“Don’t!” he rolls onto his back again and pouts up at Yunho, lips pink and swollen and eyes dark and huge with makeup. Yunho catches his breath.

“God,” he kisses Changmin, hard and rough and desperate this time. “Not sure I want you going out there looking like this.”

He takes Changmin’s ankle in one hand and brings his leg over his shoulder, uncaring that his heels press against his back. His other hand finds Changmin’s hole, lube-slicked fingers pressing into him. Changmin gasps, a flush high on his cheeks as he rides down on them.

“What? Why?” he pants.

“People will get ideas. You look too fucking good,” Yunho bites at his lip and twists his fingers, and Changmin arches with a strangled cry as he brushes his sweet spot. 

“I-it’s just a stage,” Changmin groans as Yunho slides his fingers out. He pulls out his cock, slicks himself and lines up, pressing in in one smooth stroke that leaves Changmin breathless.

“Yeah and you’re only wearing a tiny red dress and heels,” Yunho grunts, starting to thrust at a steady pace. Changmin closes his eyes and moans at how good it feels; he’s so full, split open on Yunho’s thick cock and loving it. Hair catches against his mouth, the wig shifting with their movements, but Changmin doesn't care that he’s ruining his stylist’s careful work. He clutches at Yunho, long legs tightening around him and moans steadily rising in pitch.

“Are you. . .seriously. . .jealous?” Changmin pants, trying to focus around the blinding haze of arousal. Yunho kisses him, swallows his moans and whimpers.

“Not really. I just liked that I was the only one who saw this side of you. _Peach_ ,” he ends on a groan as Changmin clenches down on him. He smiles.

“You’re still the only one who gets to see all of me,” Changmin purrs. 

Yunho’s gaze darkens. The couch creaks and Changmin throws his head back and scrabbles at the leather, desperate sounds spilling out of his mouth as he spirals higher. Anyone walking past their dressing room could hear, but frankly he doesn’t give a fuck. He just needs Yunho to keep driving into him, keep brushing against that spot that’s making him incoherent with need. 

“Hyung,” he moans. “Please – I’m so close – ”

“Wait for me baby,” Yunho pants.

“Oh, fuck – yes, right there – ”

They breathe in each other, the feathers on Changmin’s dress shivering violently as Yunho slams into him, their pace frantic and desperate. Changmin’s cries spiral higher and higher, his voice eventually cracking as the tension snaps and he comes with a choked cry. Yunho catches most of it with his hand, just barely saving the dress, and grinds out his own orgasm with a shudder deep inside Changmin.

They draw apart with soft groans. Yunho cleans him up and slides the booty shorts back up his legs. 

Changmin gets up and looks at himself in the mirror, at the smear of cum on the inside of his thighs and his askew wig and kiss-swollen lips.

“Six out of ten,” he says. 

Yunho’s face falls. “I tried my best!” he says.

Changmin laughs and turns to face him. His arms go around Yunho’s neck. “I know. It’s okay – stylists noona will just have to do me up again.”

They kiss, soft and sure, and Changmin buried his nose in Yunho’s neck. 

“I’m kinda nervous,” he admits, voice muffled. 

Strong hands stroke the curve of his waist. 

“You’ll be amazing,” Yunho says, confident. Changmin gives him an unsure look and he smiles. “You’re Peach.”


End file.
